Page 55 of Forever Christmas
“Yes,” Corabelle says. “And our last baby had hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Will you be able to tell if this one does?”
“Definitely,” she says. “It will already have presented. Did it get caught early last time?”
“No,” Corabelle says. “Not until birth.”
“We’ll take a good long look,” Shelly says.
This makes me wonder why Finn’s sonographer hadn’t taken a good long look. But Corabelle saidat the time that many heart defects weren’t found until birth. It was past.
But now, it’s present.
Corabelle’s grip on my hand becomes a tight squeeze as Shelly starts moving the paddle over the gel. The blips onscreen are a blur of movement at first, then they lock in.
I’m getting better at seeing stuff. The baby is more clearly a baby now. I can see the head and the body and bent legs. Eventhe cord is obvious, sticking up out of the belly.
The pulse of the heart is evident in the shifting dots. Corabelle lets go of me unexpectedly and covers her eyes.
“We’re fine,” I say to her. “It’s fine.”
Shelly doesn’t speak for a while, and the seconds tick away like a bomb about to go off. I look at Corabelle, who is concentrating on breathing, her arm over her face. Her chest rises andfalls in a deliberate pace. Maybe she’s trying not to throw up.
I hold on to her arm.
“So the size is spot on,” Shelly says. “Sorry to be quiet. I wanted to be able to speak when it was time to say everything. Here is the length and it’s coming out to sixteen weeks, two days. So perfect. And head is fifteen four and femur is sixteen four. All in good range. Might mean he’s tall.”
“He?” I askquickly.
She nods. “Yes, it’s a he.” She moves the paddle around. “Boy parts!”
“Another boy, Corabelle,” I say.
She moves her arm. “Please tell us about the heart.”
“Definitely no hypoplastic heart,” she says. She zooms in on the pulsing dots and freezes the screen. “Here is the left side and here is the right. All properly sized.”
“But…” Corabelle says.
“I’m going to keep a watch righthere,” she says. She rolls the arrow over the top of the baby’s heart chambers. “There’s a hole here that is perfectly expected, one that will close at birth.”
“But…” Corabelle says again.
“There’s a flap that should come over it when it’s time. I’m not seeing it. It’s too early to tell anything, and he’s probably going to be just fine. But with the history, I want to keep watch.”
The womansaves the screen and pulls the paddle away.
Corabelle’s voice is tense. “And if it’s not fine?”
“Most likely, we give the baby a drug shortly after birth to close the hole. If not, it’s a small procedure where we go up through the groin. Nothing open heart. Nothing major. Nothing life threatening in any way. Often we wait until they are two. And that’s worst case. Most likely this is going toclose up on its own.”
Corabelle covers her eyes again. I can see tears soaking another pillow.
“Listen to her,” I say gently. “It’s going to be fine. He’s fine.”
She tries to nod beneath her arm. Shelly wipes Corabelle’s belly with the paper and tosses it in the trash.
I help her sit up.
“We’re right here,” Shelly says. “We’ll do another sonogram early in the third trimester and see how he’sprogressed. I’m betting it will be all closed up and fine.”
Corabelle doesn’t say anything. I help her off the exam table.
I should probably be worried about this little blip with the baby, but right now taking care of Corabelle is about all I can do.
